“Thank you, but no,” I replied softly. I couldn’t imagine enduring that, with myself some broken thing compared to the week before.
He frowned at me, raising his hand, and I flinched. “Jenna.” His voice was full of many things. Too many for me to sort, except I could pick out the pity, the same that had been in his eyes. I had been reduced to a thing to be pitied. Slowly he took my hand in both of his, examining the ring and wedding bracelets, fingers skimming over the silk gloves, as if he guessed at what lay beneath.
“How can I help you?” he asked, in a tone so quiet I might have imagined I heard it. Do you need to be rescued?
I glanced up at him, maybe to check to see if I’d hallucinated the words—another fragment of drugged dreams—and caught him studying the fading bruise on my cheek. The makeup very nearly concealed it, but only very nearly. I averted my face, turning it so he couldn’t see. Too late and too careless.
“Did Rodolf hit you?” Harlan asked, anger threading through his deep voice, enough that it cracked a little, the adolescent boy surfacing in his upset.
I laughed, the breathy crawl just short of hysteria that had become my new laugh. If he only knew. That backhand to my face—the first blow Rodolf gave me, a twisted bit of nostalgia there—had been the very least of what he’d done to me. But all of that was so carefully hidden away beneath my clothes, the subtle and diligent art of the seraglio.
Across the room, my mother watched us, eyes sharp and the warning clear in her face. So I summoned a smile for my baby brother. “A lapse in agility on my part. There’s no cause for concern.”
He clearly didn’t believe me, his expression so transparently incredulous that I shifted a bit, making him turn so his back presented more fully to my mother.
“Why would you lie?” Harlan demanded. “Our father needs to know. We can’t let you leave with that—”
“Hush!” I cut in, for his voice had risen too loud in his indignation. So like his full sister Helva in his way, with their impetuous naiveté. “Take me to this salon.”
He offered an arm, escorting me, his rage palpable through the flexing of his forearm. My mother tracked us with an intent stare and I knew we’d only have a moment or two. Once inside the little grouping of chairs, Harlan moved to pull the curtains, but I stopped him. I’d rather keep an eye on who might listen in. In fact, there went a young page from Mother to Kral, who immediately turned from Inga to attend the empress.
“Jenna, you have to tell—” Harlan began, and I rounded on him.
“You’re a fool,” I shot the quiet words at him. Whispers are easier to overhear, so I kept my voice velvety soft. “You’re only a boy so it’s understandable, but you will say nothing to anyone.”
He stared at me, completely taken aback. “You’re hurt. I could feel it when you walked. What has he done to you? Don’t tell me you enjoy it, because I see in your eyes how—”
“Don’t say it.” I nearly sobbed it. Kral looked our direction, our mother speaking in his ear. “It doesn’t matter because they already know. My mother intervened—and our father made sure my face wouldn’t be damaged again.” And that only while I might be publicly viewed. Rodolf had promised that would change, since my pretty face mattered so much to me that I’d have the emperor himself chastise him for it.
“They … know?” Harlan echoed in disbelief, some of that innocence dying in his eyes as he processed that information. Behind him, Kral cut through the crowd like the shark he was named for, face hard and eyes sharp on me.
“Yes. And you can’t do anything about it. They’ll only punish you. Forget me. If you want to do something for me, treat your women well in my memory.” My eyes filled with tears, but I lowered my gaze and blinked them back.
“Sister,” Kral spoke, coming up on Harlan’s flank and edging him aside. “Our mother sends her regards and notes that you have an early start tomorrow. It’s best that you return to the seraglio to rest. I’ll escort you.” He offered an arm and I took it.
“Jenna,” Harlan said, sounding torn between frustration and desolation.
Kral paused, giving him a searing glare. “Stay out of this, little rabbit. You’ve already drawn attention and you know what happens to all of us then. Say goodbye to Jenna.”
“We already did. Have a good life, Harlan. That’s what I wish for you, baby brother.” Firmly turning my back on him, I allowed Kral to escort me swiftly out the doors and into the long hall that led through the main part of the Imperial Palace. I’d never even seen all of it.
“Our mother is concerned that you’ll jeopardize this very important alliance,” Kral said, looking straight ahead, a bulge in his jaw. I wondered what needles our mother used to keep him on her leash.
“I won’t,” I replied, not even bothering to be angry or offended. Unlike Harlan, Kral possessed little ability to see what anyone else suffered. I doubted he’d even thought of me as anything but a game piece, a bynd from the game we’d played as children to sacrifice in order to improve his chances at the throne. “I’ve gone along with everything.”
“You could make an effort to look happier,” he grunted. “A new bride should be radiant with joy.”
I laughed at that, my twisted, mostly hysterical one, and he looked down at me, maybe actually seeing me for once.
“Is there a reason you’re not happy?” He asked. “Besides having a selfish temper tantrum about not wanting to leave the Imperial Palace.”
Ah, that was my mother’s explanation. Plausible enough, I supposed, to explain to a young man not yet my age. Still, if I said nothing at this point, it made me complicit in my own terrorizing. Something about Harlan’s astonishment at my easy capitulation stuck with me. But could I break a lifetime of obedience?
“If I said I didn’t want to go,” I breathed, “would you help me?”
Kral jerked his head back, firming his lips together. “You have to go with your husband. That is the way of things, no matter your feminine worries.”
I nodded, beyond weary. I’d expected that answer.
Kral patted my hand, not seeming to notice the gloves at all. “You’ll grow accustomed to your new home. Your husband is wealthy and you’ll want for nothing. It’s a good life. And we’ll be working behind the scenes, putting the pieces in place.”
I knew without a doubt that he hoped to supplant Hestar as heir. It showed in the ambitious light in his icy eyes as he winked at me. The pair of us, pretending we colluded with such wit when Kral would be as much a bynd as I in our mother’s game. Though he’d enjoy a considerably better life while he did.
“Truly,” he said, as we ascended the curving stairs, his voice very low, “your role—while critical and you’ll always have my gratitude for it—is the easy one. You need only enjoy your life of leisure while I work on my part. Surely you can do that much?”
A life of leisure. I hadn’t thought I’d harbored any hope, and yet I must have because it sank like a stone from my heart and through my stomach. Would my death upset their plans? Probably so, if I suicided, but not if I kept Rodolf happy and sealed to the Elskadyr cause. Though, if he killed me—say by accident during his idea of sex—then he might feel enough remorse to continue to support the Elskadyrs against the emperor and Hestar, should it come to that. In fact, if he killed me, then my father might hold Rodolf to account, giving him a reason to fight back—with the Elskadyrs and their allies turning the surprise by supporting him.
My mother might have intended that all along. It fit her canny mind, which I knew well. No one would dare to declare open rebellion, but if goaded to defend themselves and their kingdom… It all made sense.
I was the bynd to be sacrificed, removed from the playing board. It would never matter whether I conceived a son. My mother had Kral, her son. Her daughter had served her purpose.
My freedom lay in goading Rodolf to kill me as soon as possible. If
he wouldn’t, I’d find a way to suicide, much as it would ruin Kral’s life. I know it sounds odd, that I had any concern for my younger brother. But I retained affection for him, for all of my siblings, and I felt a sort of commiseration with him, that he’d been as molded and manipulated as I.
I didn’t fool myself that his life would be easy, prodded by our mother’s wiles.
The guards had unlocked and opened the first set of doors, so I turned to Kral, seeing my own face in his. “I wish you well, Brother,” I said, meaning it.
He bowed to me. “I wish you well, Sister. May you rejoice in your marriage and be blessed with many children—and may I meet my nephews and nieces someday.”
I turned away so he wouldn’t see the fresh spate of tears, though I let them fall freely when the doors locked behind me.
~ 13 ~
The ladies of the seraglio all gathered to bid me farewell. Most of them, anyway. Not Jilliya, of course, nor the ones with morning duties in the greater palace. But the rekjabrel, returned from their night’s revelry, had delayed going to bed to see me off, kissing me and pressing gifts into my hands. Most of my things had already been carried out to Rodolf’s caravan, but Petra had cleverly borrowed a cart the servants used to convey food and other heavy items, taking the gifts from my hands and arranging them neatly in the cart to go with us.
Her dark eyes shone with excitement, and I was glad that at least one of us faced the future with happiness in her heart.
Kaia knelt, weeping, her tears wetting my feet as she kissed them until I raised her up.
“Thank you, Princess,” she said, for the umpteenth time. I’d at least been able to arrange for Kaia’s retirement. My mother had, in fact, conceded to a number of my demands, eager to agree to anything, so long as I didn’t make a fuss about staying married to the man who would torture and then murder me.
I’d told Inga and Helva about their gift that morning, meeting them for our last breakfast by the little lagoon. I’d called it a “bride gift,” figuring that they’d only discover after I was gone that I’d made up the tradition.
Both Inga and Helva had gazed at me with blank expressions. They’d taken to dancing around me and my terrible moods, not asking questions they knew I couldn’t answer. Where Harlan had been naïve and Kral had been blind, my sisters knew how things went for women. They might have been somewhat surprised to see an Imperial Princess treated no better than a rekjabrel, but I imagined they’d gotten over that quickly enough.
“What do you mean that we’ll only marry if we choose it?” Inga had finally gathered her thoughts to ask.
Helva swallowed, looking down at her plate and poking at a piece of fruit. “I don’t want to marry, ever.”
“Then you don’t have to,” I reassured her, swallowing my own lump of emotion when she looked up at me, eyes swimming with tears of fearful hope. “The empress has promised, and the emperor agreed. You will both continue to be introduced to court and attend events as is traditional, and you will be presented to potential husbands, but you retain the ultimate decision. They will no doubt try to sway you, but Saira will be on guard to be sure you aren’t bullied into anything you don’t want to do.”
Saira hadn’t been shocked, exactly, when I told her of the promise I’d extracted, but she had regarded me thoughtfully and wished me well. Rather cryptically, she said that she’d do what she could to aid me in return. Knowing Saira could do nothing—a third wife who left the seraglio only with my mother’s permission, or the emperor’s—I thanked her as sincerely as I could, rewarded by a gentle embrace and surprising emotion in her gaze.
“What did you trade, to ensure this freedom for us?” Inga asked, her aqua eyes acute with intelligence.
“Nothing I wasn’t forced to give anyway,” I told her, with what I hoped looked like a wry smile. It probably came across as sad and pitiful, because her mouth trembled.
“You don’t have to go,” Helva said, suddenly and with ferocity. “Tell them you won’t. What can they do—drag you out of here?”
“Yes,” I said, decisively. “They could and would, and then I’d lose what little bargaining power I have.”
Inga closed her eyes, looking pained, but nodded in reluctant agreement.
“This is my gift to you, to remember me by. If you choose to marry, choose wisely. Make sure that he is a …” My voice broke, and I cleared my throat. “A kind man. There are some.”
Inga reached over and gripped my fingers in hers, carefully avoiding my wrists. On the other side, Helva did the same. Then they joined hands with each other, completing our triangle.
“Come back to us, when you can,” Inga said, her eyes intent and voice urgent. “I, at least, will stay here until you do. That’s my vow to you. When you come back, I’ll be waiting. And we will change all of this.”
“Don’t say that—” I started and she smiled at me, a ferocious baring of her teeth.
“You’ve bought me freedom and I won’t forget it. Come back. Promise me you will.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Promise it,” she insisted. “For I’ll wait my entire life for it.”
“Me, too,” Helva added stoutly. “I’ll wait, too. I’m never marrying so I’ll be here.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I told them, bewildered and yet oddly anchored by their fierce loyalty and resolve.
“We do know.” Inga lifted her hand joined with Helva’s, and they exchanged a look. “We’re not blind to what you’ve suffered. Though I’d never compare my pain to yours—it’s nearly killed me to stand by and be able to do nothing at all to help you.”
Helva nodded, tears breaking and falling down her face.
“So, we’re going to learn,” Inga continued, voice like marble, cool and implacable. “Your mother isn’t the only wily one. When you come back, we’ll have all the power we can accumulate. We’ll be ready.”
“Ready,” Helva affirmed between quiet sobs. “But promise.”
“I promise I’ll come back if I can,” I told them, because I couldn’t do otherwise. Now they stood back, hands joined, watching me from the side. Hede’s women picked up the wheeled cart to carry up the stairs, and Petra adjusted the fall of my klút, then followed behind me as I passed through the doors of the seraglio for the final time.
* * * *
I made it the performance of a lifetime. Which it would be in no time at all, I had no doubt. Holding my head regally high, using all of my dancer’s strength and grace, I waved to the crowds gathered to wish me farewell, determined to be remembered as an Imperial Princess, pearl of the empire.
What they don’t tell you about pearls is that they’re fragile jewels. Without care, without the warmth and oils of living skin, they become brittle and shatter.
When my death became known, it would be a shock, a difficult concept to reconcile with the glowing, beautiful woman I presented to them. Even Kral seemed pleased, kissing my cheek goodbye with a happy smile and what sounded like heartfelt good wishes. My mother managed to look tearful, waving to me from the emperor’s side. From what I saw, anyway. I couldn’t bear to look at either of them.
The guards at the great doors to the Imperial Palace lifted me in a chair to carry me the short distance to the carriage Rodolf had waiting for me. There’d been much talk of the thing—an elaborate confection of shades of ivory, trimmed with diamonds, pearls and silver spiderwebs to commemorate the joining of our three houses. Looking on it, I could only think of birdcages and Ada’s story of her beloved captive bird.
Snow fell around it in thick flakes, and I spared a moment to turn my face to the white sky, savoring the way they felt, falling on my skin. A feathery brush, a spike of chill then the wetness of melt like the kiss of tears. The snowflakes seemed to manifest from nothing, emerging from the blankness and briefly spinning in their intricate, symmetrical feathers, li
ke tiny birds, before landing on me. Then I was bundled into the carriage, happy enough for the warmth as my bare feet had gotten chilled even in those few brief moments.
I only wished I’d gotten to see the sun.
Petra rode with me in the carriage, but no one else. A relief as I didn’t know how I could handle Rodolf’s company without falling apart. He’d already trained me well to plead and grovel at his least command. I hated for anyone to witness it.
The interior was furnished with the softest of white fur blankets, the benches deeply padded and upholstered in ivory velvet, which also covered the walls, floor and ceiling. No windows allowed us to look out, as no commoner should be allowed to glimpse the Imperial Princess. They’d have to let me out now and again to answer the call of nature, so perhaps I’d see a bit of the outside world then. Maybe even the sun.
The carriage halted. Male voices discussing. The door opened for a guard, wearing heavy black armor, to peer in. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of the ivory sky sending out furls of snowflakes to settle over a field of fallen snow that stretched farther than my eyes had ever looked. Beyond that, a wall of real trees rose, some deep green, others mostly black and laden with snow. And beyond that, even, high mountains reared with blues and purples, the peaks I knew they must have lost in the swirl of falling snow.
The door shut, making me gasp with shock.
“Are you all right, my queen?” Petra asked. “It’s so cold.”
I looked at her, bemused by the mug she offered me, waving it away. If all I got were brief glimpses of outside, I’d take them clear-headed, without the muddlement of mjed. “I saw the forest. And mountains.”
“The lake, too,” she nodded, seeming to understand, “though it lay under the snow.”
“The lake,” I echoed, tasting the word. Though Ada had pronounced the landscapes painted on the walls of the seraglio clever and realistic, they didn’t compare to the real outside in my eye. The real world had … incredible depth. My eyes ached from trying to see it.
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